//------------------------------//
// Chapter 49: Prototype 
// Story: Child of Mine 
// by Starscribe 
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Kyle felt the gnawing sense that something was wrong the longer she waited. Now she had the word of Akiko, but how much had that even meant so far? Was she just wrong about the way she thought the magic would work? Or lying to get us to cooperate?

Just so long as they stay away from Fay, it will be fine. It's probably my turn to get blasted with some strange magic anyway.

She wasn't wrong to expect them to come through the office. Akiko stepped through the open doorway, a heavy case under one arm. She smiled, as though she hadn't been responsible for some of the worst of Flurry's suffering. She's like Grandpa. Cares more about us than the baby. 

Maybe that was the right way to think, in an objective sense. But Kyle couldn't accept it. She might be the reason her life was ruined, but she was also just a baby. "I hope you don't mind taking me through the area the child... altered, before we try this," she said. "I would like to collect samples."

Kyle nodded absently. Taking samples from an empty room seemed far better than what Kara had been put through. 

"Sure. You were here when she did it, so you know where it is. Over here." They left the open office door behind, Kyle leading Akiko to the boundary where stone changed to crystal. Akiko felt the edge with one hand, whistling at the transition. 

"This isn't surprising—it's consistent with what she did to you. But It's still astounding to see power like this coming from a creature so small. Imagine what you might be capable of, with a rational thinking mind instead of the desperate instincts of a child."

They passed into the bedroom. Akiko kicked the door closed, spreading the contents of her case out on the regal desk positioned against the wall. Sample containers, just as she'd suggested. "You think I can do more than just levitate things around?"

Akiko's eyes narrowed, as she lifted a tiny sample hammer in one hand, and a vial in another. "Don't be coy with me. Your grandfather pays for others to understand this stuff—I'm one of the experts. Someone's been performing spells in here since you arrived. Given the lack of corpses or holes in the universe, I'm going to guess that someone is you."

"I—"

She raised a hand, cutting Kyle off as she stalked past her and over to the wall. She struck it a few times, chipping off bits of crystal into the vial. "I would experiment with it too. Magic is an incredible gift. The amount you've been given is... call it unfair, call it unprecedented, or maybe just unbelievable. I theorize that you're now the equal of the most powerful wizards in the world. What they have to do with centuries of experience and carefully shepherded power, you have flowing through your veins for free."

That doesn't sound like a good thing. It sounds like I'm as much of a resource as the baby is. 

She should probably just keep her mouth shut and start looking for a way out. But Kyle was already on the edge of her rope, all the more thanks to the pain they'd put Fay through. "If all that's true, why would you help me? It sounds like Edgar and all the other people who make decisions would want to just keep us here forever."

Akiko said nothing for several long moments, ostensibly occupied removing a few threads from the bed. Then she settled them in place, and removed a large metal object from the case. 

It was a cast iron ring, with coils of different wire wrapped around its various sections. At one point was a shard of triangular crystal, glowing from within. Several other precious stones were stuck seemingly at random around the outside, with little wires and filaments connecting them. 

"I wouldn't squander that gift if it came to me," she said. "I'd embrace it. Wherever my life was going before, it couldn't be as significant as all that. Think about all the good you could do. Your grandmother died of... cancer, right? You could've cured her. Properly mastered, the magic you have now would make you one of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world. And this tool will let you keep your humanity at the same time."

She spun it slowly, aiming the crystal towards her. "Well, after a fashion. This version is an experimental solution, like a... breadboard prototype of sorts. If it works, we'll miniaturize it."

If it works. Kyle could feel the pressure of it against her horn, like an invisible heat-lamp. 

"You built it already?" she asked, mouth hanging open. "How?"

"Spells can be digitally prototyped," Akiko said absently. "I don't want to get your hopes up, it is just a first attempt. Its application at this stage is quite limited, as you'll soon see."

She settled down on her haunches, glaring skeptically at it. If she looked closely, the familiar runes she'd been memorizing were all over it, but more densely packed than anything she could've put together.

Akiko might work for her grandfather, but compared to her, Kyle was a magical kindergartener. Monday hadn't even speculated about something like this. "What limits?"

"A finished prosthetic would restore you to your previous human form, possibly adjusting to match the aging you would be experiencing. This was made to be useful to you, or your sister, or any other victims of the specimen’s wild magic. It works according to the principle of equivalent exchange. It's easier if you just try it."

"How?" Kyle's suspicion faded, replaced with something far simpler. Could she really be back to normal now? Weeks, maybe months of confusion with her own body and suddenly it was all fixed? It sounded too good to be true. But she had volunteered to be the one to test things.

"Just touch the conflux of wires there at the center. Be warned, it will draw on your own internal magic to power it—a spell like this would take me weeks of preparation. With your power, you should be able to use something like this continuously for weeks without issue. If my projections are accurate."
 
Akiko deposited the strange device on the bed in front of her, taking a few steps out of the way. She pulled out a tablet computer, lifting a stylus in one hand. Of course you'd be taking notes. There's no privacy here.

Kyle settled herself firmly on the ground, then touched her hoof to the center and waited. There was a single frightening second where she was afraid nothing at all would happen. Maybe it was a trick, or worse—maybe this tantalizing hint of humanity would be snatched away.

Then something yanked her downward, and she fell... into herself? Air rushed past her for a second or two, then stopped just as quickly. Suddenly he felt knees pressed painfully to the floor, and the cold chill of air against bare skin. Instead of easily reaching down to the bed, his arm straining in the socket at the distance. 

His head spun, but he couldn't see much of anything through a blinding curtain of blue. But how could that still be there?

Akiko was scribbling furiously behind him. He turned his head, reaching up to brush away the hair as best he could. "Careful, don't let go!" she called. "You don't have to hold the center, but please keep the prototype in contact with your body. If you let go, the illusion will fade."

Kyle took a single deep breath, fighting his embarrassment. I'm naked again. Of course I would be. I'm naked all the time. "For an illusion, this feels... very real."

That wasn't his voice. If anything, it was higher than it had been a few moments ago. More like Kara before she was changed. And there were other troubling details. His chest shouldn't be pulling him down. "Oh." He swallowed, adjusting his grip on the metal disk with one hand. He lifted slowly, turning to face Akiko. More importantly, there was a mirror behind her. 

Though the intervening hair prevented anything like a good view, there was no mystery about what that reflection showed. 

Kyle looked older than he should've been, though that might've just been the hips and chest. His legs shuddered, and he nearly lost his balance—but he managed to stay standing, lowering the spell as best he could. "Can I have something to wear, please?"

"We're almost done," Akiko answered, waving a dismissive hand. "That's why I shut the door, Kyle. And why we did it in here. No cameras."

She finished whatever she'd been scribbling, grinning eagerly. "Try your other hand, if you would. I'd like to know if the dexterity feels right. Maybe write something on my tablet here."

She held it up, and Kyle drew. It was strange, and he expected his fingers to glue back together as he moved them. But they didn't. His frowny face came out a little lumpy, but recognizable. 

"I'm not sure what's to be disappointed about," Akiko said, pocketing the screen. "This is phenomenal news, Kyle! We have a working real time energy conversion model! More importantly, we've demonstrated that your magic and ours is compatible. This alone might be evidence of the deterministic model of thaumic expression. We didn't invent any of it, merely discovered it. Unless the universe itself is pressing you into this pattern by virtue of being here, and not wherever the specimen came from."

Kyle's hand was already starting to shake. "I didn't think—I don't know if I want this." He pointed at the mirror, then lowered it again to cover his chest. "I wasn't a girl before, Akiko."

She froze, staring at him. She stayed that way for a good long while, as though she didn't even understand what he'd just said. "Oh, you mean... sex. I warned you about that. The simplest illusion is one that maps one species to another. The specimen created you to be its mother, yes? That remains true here. It wouldn't necessarily remain true in a finished prosthesis."

She leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially. "Actually, there's no reason anything about your finished spell would need to match what you were before. With your magic, we could power any illusion we wanted. Supermodel, movie star—anyone you can imagine. That's the beauty of embracing the magic. Physical constraints are meaningless, the will is all that matters."

Kyle stared back at his reflection for a few more seconds, the weight of Akiko's words settling on him like bricks. If I had to choose what I would look like right now, could I do it?

He knew one thing for sure, he wanted to be there for Fay. But maybe that could be part of this too. She'd be hard pressed to explode all over the place if she was a human baby. And if she was, I wouldn't want to give her up. Other things weren't so bad either. Being Kara's sister meant they could be closer without feeling weird.

"I don't know if I'm ready to choose that," he said. "This feels... weirder than being a horse. If that makes sense."

"Not really." Akiko turned away absently. "But I've never been very good at people. You have time to decide, in any case. The next step will be a miniaturized version. Then we move on to tailored individual copies for you and your sister. Possibly the specimen, if it would do any good."

Kyle almost replied—then he heard the scream. Not the baby's, though maybe he wouldn't have been able to hear that through so many layers of intervening crystal. No, this was a man's scream, as though someone had just lit him on fire.

In a single swift movement, Kyle lifted his hand from the prototype, tossing it onto the bed.

The spell didn't fade immediately, as he'd expected. The world seemed to shrink as she fell back to the crystal floor, eyes wide with pain and confusion. She wanted to move, but felt so... numb. She struggled to rise, or even to scream. But the words wouldn't come.

"Oh, right, I should've warned you. There's a bit of... I guess call it sensory withdrawal. It will pass in a few minutes. But if you'll excuse me, I need to deal with the other experiment. Thanks for your help."

She scooped the prototype into her satchel and flicked the door open. 

The screams got much louder as she opened the door. Not Fay—a stranger. But so close, they had to be in the enclosure. 

"I'm... coming," she croaked. But she couldn't. Not right away.